Please help me welcome Mr. Bill Walker, author of A Note from an Old Aquaintance

Author’s Thoughts:
One of the most difficult aspects of writing, in my humble opinion, is dialogue. It is also one of the most important. In fact, I would wager that most people wouldn’t care to read a book without it. So, how does one develop an ear for dialogue? After all, we hear people around us speak all day long, every day. Dialogue should be a snap, right? Wrong. In real life people speak in fragments that would look awful on the printed page and sound even worse in the reader’s mind, and I’m not even counting if it makes sense or not. Your dialogue must serve the story and can’t afford to waste time going off on tangents like all of us do in real life.

When I first endeavored to write professionally, while I could turn a decent descriptive phrase, or two, dialogue was my weak point, my Achilles heel, as it were. It sounded phony, stilted and wooden. No matter what I wrote, I hated the dialogue. And then I started using a technique that seems to work for me. I started casting my characters in my mind, using either real people, such as people I knew or famous actors and actresses, or simply vivid constructs, and assigned them voices and accents. I then deliberately imagined each scene as a little movie of the mind, to be played over and over again as I tried different lines of dialogue. Now, this may seem like a no-brainer, but this may not work for everyone. Because of my desire to be a filmmaker I tend to think cinematically.

Once you start doing this, and it will still take practice, the dialogue will flow more naturally, because you as the writer will inhabit the role of each character as you write them. In effect, you become the ultimate actor. One thing you should avoid, however, is too much dialect. While Mark Twain got away with it, modern readers don’t want to wade through pages of words with strange and unique spellings. Instead of making your characters more vivid, you distract the reader, pulling them out of the story. And you NEVER want to do that, if you can help it.

Through my little cinematic technique you can use normal language, slanting a word or two, or using certain phrases unique to that character to make him or her sound Irish, for instance. They don’t have to speak like the Lucky Charms leprechaun and in fact they shouldn’t, unless you want to stray into the land of cliché. In any event, give my technique a try and see if it works for you.

About A Note From an Old Acquaintance:
Brian Weller is a haunted man. It’s been two years since the tragic accident that left his three-year-old son dead and his wife in an irreversible coma. A popular author of mega-selling thrillers, Brian’s life has reached a crossroads: his new book is stalled, his wife’s prognosis is dire, and he teeters on the brink of despair.

Everything changes the morning an e-mail arrives from Boston artist Joanna Richman. Her heartfelt note brings back all the poignant memories: the night their eyes met, the fiery passion of their short-lived affair, and the agonizing moment he was forced to leave Joanna forever. Now, fifteen years later, the guilt and anger threaten to overwhelm him. Vowing to make things right, Brian arranges a book-signing tour that will take him back to Boston. He is eager to see Joanna again, but remains unsure where their reunion will lead. One thing is certain: the forces that tore their love asunder will stop at nothing to keep them apart.

Filled with tender romance and taut suspense, A Note from an Old Acquaintance is an unforgettable story about fate, honor, and the power of true love.

You can find my review dated 02/27/10….
Thank you Mr. Walker for stoppng by, sharing your thoughts and allowing me the opportunity of reading a very enjoyable book.  This reader will be awaiting your next novel.

Please help me welcome Mr. Bill Walker, author of A Note from an Old Aquaintance

Author’s Thoughts:
One of the most difficult aspects of writing, in my humble opinion, is dialogue. It is also one of the most important. In fact, I would wager that most people wouldn’t care to read a book without it. So, how does one develop an ear for dialogue? After all, we hear people around us speak all day long, every day. Dialogue should be a snap, right? Wrong. In real life people speak in fragments that would look awful on the printed page and sound even worse in the reader’s mind, and I’m not even counting if it makes sense or not. Your dialogue must serve the story and can’t afford to waste time going off on tangents like all of us do in real life.

When I first endeavored to write professionally, while I could turn a decent descriptive phrase, or two, dialogue was my weak point, my Achilles heel, as it were. It sounded phony, stilted and wooden. No matter what I wrote, I hated the dialogue. And then I started using a technique that seems to work for me. I started casting my characters in my mind, using either real people, such as people I knew or famous actors and actresses, or simply vivid constructs, and assigned them voices and accents. I then deliberately imagined each scene as a little movie of the mind, to be played over and over again as I tried different lines of dialogue. Now, this may seem like a no-brainer, but this may not work for everyone. Because of my desire to be a filmmaker I tend to think cinematically.

Once you start doing this, and it will still take practice, the dialogue will flow more naturally, because you as the writer will inhabit the role of each character as you write them. In effect, you become the ultimate actor. One thing you should avoid, however, is too much dialect. While Mark Twain got away with it, modern readers don’t want to wade through pages of words with strange and unique spellings. Instead of making your characters more vivid, you distract the reader, pulling them out of the story. And you NEVER want to do that, if you can help it.

Through my little cinematic technique you can use normal language, slanting a word or two, or using certain phrases unique to that character to make him or her sound Irish, for instance. They don’t have to speak like the Lucky Charms leprechaun and in fact they shouldn’t, unless you want to stray into the land of cliché. In any event, give my technique a try and see if it works for you.

About A Note From an Old Acquaintance:
Brian Weller is a haunted man. It’s been two years since the tragic accident that left his three-year-old son dead and his wife in an irreversible coma. A popular author of mega-selling thrillers, Brian’s life has reached a crossroads: his new book is stalled, his wife’s prognosis is dire, and he teeters on the brink of despair.

Everything changes the morning an e-mail arrives from Boston artist Joanna Richman. Her heartfelt note brings back all the poignant memories: the night their eyes met, the fiery passion of their short-lived affair, and the agonizing moment he was forced to leave Joanna forever. Now, fifteen years later, the guilt and anger threaten to overwhelm him. Vowing to make things right, Brian arranges a book-signing tour that will take him back to Boston. He is eager to see Joanna again, but remains unsure where their reunion will lead. One thing is certain: the forces that tore their love asunder will stop at nothing to keep them apart.

Filled with tender romance and taut suspense, A Note from an Old Acquaintance is an unforgettable story about fate, honor, and the power of true love.

You can find my review dated 02/27/10….
Thank you Mr. Walker for stoppng by, sharing your thoughts and allowing me the opportunity of reading a very enjoyable book.  This reader will be awaiting your next novel.

Like McCabe, I’m a native New Yorker. He was born in the Bronx. I was born in Brooklyn. We both grew up in the city. He dropped out of NYU Film School and joined the NYPD, rising through the ranks to become the top homicide cop at the Midtown North Precinct. I graduated from Brown and joined a major New York ad agency, rising through the ranks to become creative director on accounts like the US Army, Procter & Gamble, and Lincoln/Mercury.

We both married beautiful brunettes. McCabe’s wife, Sandy dumped him to marry a rich investment banker who had “no interest in raising other people’s children.” My wife, Jeanne, though often given good reason to leave me in the lurch, has stuck it out through thick and thin and is still my wife. She is also my best friend, my most attentive reader and a perceptive critic.

Both McCabe and I eventually left New York for Portland, Maine. I arrived in August 2001, shortly before the 9/11 attacks, in search of the right place to begin a new career as a fiction writer. He came to town a year later, to escape a dark secret in his past and to find a safe place to raise his teenage daughter, Casey.

There are other similarities between us. We both love good Scotch whiskey, old movie trivia and the New York Giants. And we both live with and love women who are talented artists.

There are also quite a few differences. McCabe’s a lot braver than me. He’s a better shot. He likes boxing. He doesn’t throw up at autopsies. And he’s far more likely to take risks. McCabe’s favorite Portland bar, Tallulah’s, is, sadly, a figment of my imagination. My favorite Portland bars are all very real.

You can visit James’ website at www.jameshaymanthrillers.com or his personal tour page at http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/2010/01/22/1640/.

What’s the Difference Between a Mystery (Or Whodunit), and a Thriller or a Novel of Suspense?

A dear old friend of mine recently read The Cutting and commented that he loved the book, loved the characters, and loved the suspense. Said it kept him on the edge of the seat and couldn’t wait for McCabe#2 (The Chill of Night-which comes out June 22nd). However, he said, he had one problem. He knew who the bad guy was pretty early on in the game. Why did I give it way?

I responded that my reason was that The Cutting was more of a suspense thriller than a mystery or whodunit. “What’s the difference?” he asked, “I thought they were pretty much the same thing.”

Looking at emails I’ve received since The Cutting came out last summer, I discovered there’s a fair amount of confusion on this issue. While there’s no official answer, here’s an unofficial answer or at least my own personal opinion.

A mystery, according to Hayman, depends on the hero solving an intellectual puzzle that leads him to discover “Whodunit.” Action is often minimal. The sleuth is seldom, if ever, in physical danger and the reader is kept guessing until the end. Reader satisfaction is derived from guessing the answer before the sleuth does or, failing that, enjoying the unraveling of the mystery and going back to look over the subtle clues the author sprinkled in along the way. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes is of course the progenitor of many of the best sleuths out there. Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot are also among the earliest and most famous.

A thriller or novel of suspense keeps the readers interest by ratcheting up the action and putting someone’s life in imminent danger. Sometimes it’s the hero. Sometimes it’s an innocent by stander or potential victim. What’s kept so many readers glued to The Cutting is the awful suspense of the ticking clock, not knowing whether McCabe can save poor Lucinda Cassidy from a horrible death before time runs out. That kind of tension definitely makes The Cutting much more of a thriller than a mystery.

Lee Child’s Jack Reacher books and John Sandford’s Prey novels are examples of other books that are thrillers much more than mysteries.

Needless to say there’s a lot of overlap and many books blend a little of both. Mine do. But, going forward, readers can expect most of the books in the Mike McCabe series, like The Cutting and the upcoming The Chill of Night will fall firmly into the thriller camp.

Hope that helps to clear up the issue.

Like McCabe, I’m a native New Yorker. He was born in the Bronx. I was born in Brooklyn. We both grew up in the city. He dropped out of NYU Film School and joined the NYPD, rising through the ranks to become the top homicide cop at the Midtown North Precinct. I graduated from Brown and joined a major New York ad agency, rising through the ranks to become creative director on accounts like the US Army, Procter & Gamble, and Lincoln/Mercury.

We both married beautiful brunettes. McCabe’s wife, Sandy dumped him to marry a rich investment banker who had “no interest in raising other people’s children.” My wife, Jeanne, though often given good reason to leave me in the lurch, has stuck it out through thick and thin and is still my wife. She is also my best friend, my most attentive reader and a perceptive critic.

Both McCabe and I eventually left New York for Portland, Maine. I arrived in August 2001, shortly before the 9/11 attacks, in search of the right place to begin a new career as a fiction writer. He came to town a year later, to escape a dark secret in his past and to find a safe place to raise his teenage daughter, Casey.

There are other similarities between us. We both love good Scotch whiskey, old movie trivia and the New York Giants. And we both live with and love women who are talented artists.

There are also quite a few differences. McCabe’s a lot braver than me. He’s a better shot. He likes boxing. He doesn’t throw up at autopsies. And he’s far more likely to take risks. McCabe’s favorite Portland bar, Tallulah’s, is, sadly, a figment of my imagination. My favorite Portland bars are all very real.

You can visit James’ website at www.jameshaymanthrillers.com or his personal tour page at http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/2010/01/22/1640/.

What’s the Difference Between a Mystery (Or Whodunit), and a Thriller or a Novel of Suspense?

A dear old friend of mine recently read The Cutting and commented that he loved the book, loved the characters, and loved the suspense. Said it kept him on the edge of the seat and couldn’t wait for McCabe#2 (The Chill of Night-which comes out June 22nd). However, he said, he had one problem. He knew who the bad guy was pretty early on in the game. Why did I give it way?

I responded that my reason was that The Cutting was more of a suspense thriller than a mystery or whodunit. “What’s the difference?” he asked, “I thought they were pretty much the same thing.”

Looking at emails I’ve received since The Cutting came out last summer, I discovered there’s a fair amount of confusion on this issue. While there’s no official answer, here’s an unofficial answer or at least my own personal opinion.

A mystery, according to Hayman, depends on the hero solving an intellectual puzzle that leads him to discover “Whodunit.” Action is often minimal. The sleuth is seldom, if ever, in physical danger and the reader is kept guessing until the end. Reader satisfaction is derived from guessing the answer before the sleuth does or, failing that, enjoying the unraveling of the mystery and going back to look over the subtle clues the author sprinkled in along the way. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes is of course the progenitor of many of the best sleuths out there. Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot are also among the earliest and most famous.

A thriller or novel of suspense keeps the readers interest by ratcheting up the action and putting someone’s life in imminent danger. Sometimes it’s the hero. Sometimes it’s an innocent by stander or potential victim. What’s kept so many readers glued to The Cutting is the awful suspense of the ticking clock, not knowing whether McCabe can save poor Lucinda Cassidy from a horrible death before time runs out. That kind of tension definitely makes The Cutting much more of a thriller than a mystery.

Lee Child’s Jack Reacher books and John Sandford’s Prey novels are examples of other books that are thrillers much more than mysteries.

Needless to say there’s a lot of overlap and many books blend a little of both. Mine do. But, going forward, readers can expect most of the books in the Mike McCabe series, like The Cutting and the upcoming The Chill of Night will fall firmly into the thriller camp.

Hope that helps to clear up the issue.